There is a great distance
A vastly endless space
A divide that echoes longing
Separating me from you

And within this great distance
Awareness is born
These two entities are destined to be
Their bond infallible

Where is the great distance
Of which I was painfully aware
Now it seems obsolete
We are intangibly connected

There is no great distance
Separating me from you

The world is dancing
shaking and dropping
Heart beats fast
Thoughts become worst
  
High mountain  touch down the earth
Heritage and temple  become the mud
Shouting and running  love of life
Mind and heart seeing ****** site

No fear of height no fear to drawn
Prepare and save  their own
The scary moment
see the death through open eyes
live with sorrow no feel of pain

Those days brings darkness but leave some hope
support of family and care of those
willing to help and blessing of loves
Busy in support and trying to cares

Build the building grow the faith
morning with shine sun that rise
walk with motive fear just tiny
help the other care like mother

Hands for pray, hands for support
heart for faith, hope for best
They said we can do,
They said we will do
know the meaning, show the meaning
We are Gorkhali & love to be Gorkhali

It begins with
nervous laughter,
creaking springs,
builds to
loud supplications
to Jesus and God,
ends in final
melting moans.

Funny how little
the notes vary;
more classical
than baroque;
more advertising
jingle than
hallelujah.

The simple sounds
of who we are,
where we come from,
what we do
to each other

played on mortal organs
by ardent amateurs,
overheard through
thin motel walls.

   - mce

You defy belief
Thanks dear
I mean, seven in the morning and you’re sober
Pub went on fire, early night
Someday you will die a lonely man
My God, that philosophy degree has done you good
Why, because i state the obvious
Exactly, we’re all going to die someday
Not from liver cirrhosis
No, you’ll go from nagging-itis
Always the comic
Being married to you dear, brings out the best in me
Do you ever wonder why i left
Have you left
Yes, i’m now happy with Jeff
Philosophy again, seven in the morning, you passing by
I was concerned about you
Jeff’s boring the pants off you
No he isn't, he’s my rock
Fancy a quickie
Certainly not
C’mon he’s a boring history teacher
Jeff’s a lecturer
It’s written all over your face, frustration my dear
Our *** life is great
*** to the Boer war, riveting
Jeff is tuned into me
Battle of Britain music, is that oral to Jeff
Fucken hate you
I see that look in your eyes
Hate you
You want me
Shut up, lets go
Will you be passing by again anytime soon
Not if i can help it
You sure, i don’t mind helping out
Going for a romantic weekend with Jeff
See you Monday then
Only if i'm passing by

I trace my family
back to the
first slimy critter
that crawled up
onto a beach
and took breath.

Beats the hell
out of the Mayflower
doesn't it?

   ~mce

When we are making love -
mouth, breast, chest and sweat
genitals joined in circles and loops
of whole bodies - curlicues

coming together, joining
land edge and sea rush
tidal, our vast ocean.

After, we drift away in our minds
our flesh still held hostage
still, our bodies linger close

until the whole earth is silent
and we quietly release each other
becoming two selves, flat on the sheet

skin, side by side beating with heat
sharp and tingling
with the taste of salt.

Busy helping people pick up their shards
That I've even forgotten my pieces still
Linger on the floor, some too shattered
To be picked.
I'm busy trying to shine some light along their path
Forgetting the beam seldom gives as much light
To the person holding the torch of inspiration
I'm so caught up cleaning up other people's mess
That even when mine stinks I think It's just the remnant of theirs
I'm so ******* helping them deal with their demons
Probably because I fear facing my own monster
With a heavy log in my eye but I only see the specks in theirs
I'm the life guard of their swim across the ocean of despair
But my anchor is sinking me deeper and deeper
I'm teaching many the basics of combat in life
Yet life is the one battlefield I have failed to fight on
I guess I'm worse than them who seek for healing
For they are unlike me brave enough to realize they need a therapy

She floated from a world before time
A Priestess with powers unseen
Subtle and nurturing.
The piece to a puzzle long forgotten
Or recently scattered in a dream
But now completed or maybe
Taking shape.
Meanings defy definition
But are precise nonetheless.
A calm innocence before the storm
That rushed in on cue.
Washing away the particulars
But polishing the essence
Of the arrangement.
Bonds so quickly formed
Unexpected energy merged
Across a table, but was it
Unexpected?
She is a diviner of things to come
A sensitive soul steering her boat
To distant shores, guided by
Ethereal forces.
A young body, an old soul
Piercing eyes that beckon
And heal.
She floated in on a hope,
And drifted out with the storm.

Beauty is within the heart of a poet freely poured out in print forever

Into this world
of ancient earthen homes
heated by fragrant native wood
comes gentle and silent snow.

Within the delicate fibers
of this newly formed heart
one tapestry is being woven.

Its indeterminate colors
barely visible, shimmer.

Longing, and loving
one presence, dancing closely
finding balance and resolution
in this sound, in this knowing
in shraddha.